


Sweet'N Low

by holopansy



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Seasonal Affective Disorder, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holopansy/pseuds/holopansy
Summary: Gerard is in the throws of Seasonal Affective Disorder, when he wanders into a coffeeshop by happenstance and his life changes for the better.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27
Collections: Have Yourself A Merry Little Fic Exchange





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeavenlyMess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenlyMess/gifts).



> Revenge Era Mikey/Gerard/Bob, Cellebration Era Frank
> 
> I tried my best to tie in the "domestic" prompts with heavy descriptions of coziness and the cooking/coffeemaking. 
> 
> Thank you to Tiff (honestverseoflonging) for helping with the title. Your brain is huge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pancake lattes do exist, at the time of writing this you can get one at Steamy Hallows in Kingston, PA.

The peak of the Christmas season is simultaneously the peak of Gerard’s seasonal depression. When most people are crooning along to “Last Christmas” by Wham! and stuffing their faces with gingerbread cookies, Gerard is driving alone to and from work, getting by on depression meals, and spending weekends in bed, crying. The cold, melted snow that penetrates through his fingerless gloves while he spends 15 minutes cleaning off his car and that soaks his decidedly  _ not waterproof _ leather boots only exacerbates his anger at the time of year, his current life choices, and the fact that it’s 7 in the morning and still fucking dark outside because America can’t Get It Together and do away with daylight savings. His only twice-weekly salvation is Starbucks on Mondays and Fridays. He gets in his car and blasts the heat, turning both dials up and angling the vents to hit his ice-cold and wet digits. Throwing on some David Bowie, Gerard backs out of his spot and drives the few streets over, and encounters the absolute worst sight a coffee-addict could ever see: a Starbucks without any lights on. 

“What the FUCK!” Gerard starts to throw what can only be described as a tantrum, punching his dash and turning recklessly into the lot, not throwing his turning signal on and earning a weak beep from the Honda Civic behind him. He drives up to the front, hoping that magically there will be workers inside and lights glowing golden, but all he can see is the reflection of his Saturn and the faint outline of his head in the front windows. He squints his eyes and sees the sign posted on the door:

CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS 11/25 - 01/15 

“Why do they never WARN people ahead of time?” Gerard asks, to himself, the ether, God, Santa, who-have-you. He grabs his phone from its cradle on the dashboard, and punches in “coffee,” selecting the closest shop that can hopefully fill the venti-sized hole in his stomach.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

  
  


It’s just another beautifully busy morning--Frank’s hands methodically pulling espresso, steaming milk, and pumping syrup for order after order--when Bob calls Frank over to the register. 

“Hey, Frank? How do I charge for the pancake latte again?” 

Frank runs over, signaling at Bob to  _ lower his voice, are you crazy?  _

“Dude, whisper...it’s a secret item for a reason.” 

“You never used to complain about my volume level before. In the bedroom.” Frank treats Bob with a stern look, but the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Shut the fuck up, oh my God, Bob. I’ll do it, switch over to prep?” He says, sliding past to punch in the correct item and process the customer’s payment.

Bob laughs. 

“Yeah of course. I promise I’ll get a handle on that damn register one day.” 

“Sure you wi-” Frank replies, eyes locked on the man in a Thursday hoodie walking in the door and up to the counter. His hair is a bit messy, like he brushed his fingers through it and the dark circles under his eyes are screaming “large colombian roast with two shots of espresso"-- 

_ Wait.  _

“Um, hello?” Mystery man waves his hand in front of himself, pulling Frank out of his stupor.

Frank is in love. Head over heels, in love at first sight. How can a human being so pretty exist in real life? 

Pretty man is still staring. Frank shakes his head to clear it of his hopeless romantic thoughts.

“Sorry! What did you say you would like?” 

“Large colombian roast with two shots of espresso, please.” 

“Cream and sugar?” 

“Extra cream, no sugar.”

Frank knows that he should just finish the expected transaction, but he wants to milk this moment with the hottest man on Earth as long as he can, so he decides to actually do something he’s never done before: upsell. 

“Would you like a bakery item? They’re all vegan and homemade by yours truly.”

“No, thank you.”  _ Well that was a total failure... _

“Okay. Your total is $2, your order will be out shortly. Can I ask for the name?”

“Gerard,” Frank writes the name on the cup and hands it to Bob as Gerard pays for his large coffee. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem, have a good day!” Frank replies, just as Bob finishes placing the filled cup on the service counter.

Gerard grabs the cup without so much as a second glance towards Frank at the register who watches him leave, resigned to the fact that he’ll get to spend the next month thinking about what-if situations. 


	2. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to come up with a nod to the achemicalmess username; mess and chemical didn’t really work as street names, so I went with the spanish word for mess.

Frank removes the fourth tray of Christmas cookies from the oven, and slides in the fifth and final tray. 

“Okay, so ten minutes for this tray. Are you almost done with the gingerbread?” Frank asks, as he carefully transfers the hot cookies to the cooling racks. 

“Yeah, can you bring me the saran wrap?” 

Frank moves the final cookie to its designated rack, and opens the counter drawer, lifting out the desired cardboard box and placing it next to the bowl of gingerbread cookie dough.

“Is that all the flour in it? It looks pretty wet still,” he worries.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna try another cup. I don’t wanna make it too stiff though because since it gets chilled in the freezer for an hour I don’t think it needs to be quite as stiff as the other dough,” Bob adds a half cup of flour, mixing it in.

“True, as long as we can roll it out without it sticking to everything and get it in a ball to put it in the freezer.” 

Bob nods, and adds the second half cup of flour, mixing it in and then packing the dough into a ball to place in the freezer. 

“So...any customers caught your fancy yesterday that you wanna talk about?”

Frank’s eyes widen and he blushes.

“How in the fuck did you know that?”

Bob laughs, “Frank, we dated for two years and we’ve known one another for four. I can tell when you like someone and I know your type--basically the opposite of me--no don’t look like that! I know you liked me, but I was an exception to your rule.” 

Frank grabs the dirty mixing bowl, the beaters, and the measuring cups and spoons and brings them to the sink to wash them as Bob begins putting away the assorted gingerbread ingredients and wiping up the table. 

“I guess I underestimate you sometimes...or overestimate myself. But I don’t really wanna talk about the dude. He’s super hot but I doubt I’ll ever see him again. He’s probably just a displaced Starbucks customer or something and will just go to a different one while that one on Enredo Boulevard is under renovation.”

“You definitely underestimate me, and I think you should be optimistic because it’s the Christmas season. Additionally, our shop is closer than any other Starbucks to the business center where he probably works. Based on his hair, he didn’t look like someone who is willing to get up early enough to go the opposite way from the business center just for Starbucks, especially when our coffee tastes better.” Bob says, plopping the softened vegan butter into the remaining mixing bowl on the table. 

“You sound like you were looking just as much as me, I find that very interesting,” Frank jokes.

“Maybe I just wanted to get a glimpse of my competition. I’m definitely better looking, but he does have a nice ass. Now bring me the clean beaters.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Frank salutes.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

_Another weekend, another slip back into the hole of depression,_ Gerard thinks as he sobs into his tear-soaked pillow. 

_I should just get another job. I can’t cry if I’m too busy working._

_But then I’d have to fill out paperwork. I hate paperwork._

Gerard blows his nose and throws the used tissue in the general vicinity of the trashcan in his room. 

_God, I hate everything. I hate myself. If I wasn’t so afraid of death and if I didn’t know that it would hurt Mikey and mom, I really would just jump off the roof right now._

_I’m so selfish except in this way I guess._

Gerard’s stomach rumbles. 

“Oh, fuck off!” he croaks, and cries harder, pulling the covers over his head.


	3. Monday, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the senior killjoys for approving the name of the shop.

So apparently there was no other Starbucks on the way to work. At least there was the shop he went to Friday. The coffee was pretty good, not too expensive, and most importantly it wasn't very busy. Gerard pulls into the lot of the shop, which he notes is named “The Caffeinated Recluse,” and admires the logo of a spider with a cup of coffee reflected in its many eyes. As he walks into the shop, he is enveloped in the smells of coffee and mocha, and his body is wrapped in warmth. Entering a coffee shop is honestly half the reason he purchases coffee twice a week instead of making it at home every single day. 

When he walks up to the counter, he is greeted and served by the short, tattooed man from the week before. Leave it to the universe to send a handsome man who is just his type his way when the last thing he currently wants to do is entangle someone else in his mental health problems. Like last Friday, he only waits a few moments for his coffee to be prepared. He nods a goodbye and mumbles a “thanks,” then turns and walks out the door.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

“I gave him your number.”

“WHAT?!” Frank turns to Bob, horrified. 

“Why the FUCK would you do that?” 

“You dressed up nice today, put on your *special* cologne, and were staring at him like a love-sick puppy. I believe in the miracle of the Christmas season.” 

“He hardly shot a glance at me!” 

“So?” 

“You’re fucking insane, dude. I was gonna try and talk to him more!”

“That’s what cellphones are for, idiot.” 

“But-”

Before Frank can argue anymore, the first few college students trickle in, desperately in need of caffeine before their 8 am classes. 


	4. Monday, Part Two - Thursday

Frank spends the rest of Monday panicking silently and resolutely ignoring Bob, only answering in grunts and nods of the head. He doesn’t even bother checking his phone, because that would mean admitting that he’s an optimist. 

He doesn’t look. 

He  _ refuses  _ to look. 

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

  
  


On Tuesday morning, he tries not to be disappointed at the lack of messages on his phone, and when he leaves at 1 pm, Bob gives him an apologetic look. No text and no appearance by Gerard in the shop after he was in both yesterday and Friday is not a good look. 

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

  
  


He tries not to let his disappointment show on Wednesday, but Bob can see it. Frank didn’t even know if Gerard was into men, and it’s a very real possibility that nothing would’ve happened even if Frank’s number hadn’t found it’s way onto the paper cup, but he  _ was  _ nice to look at, and they’re missing out on the revenue from that $3 cup of coffee every day.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Thursday goes by smoothly, and when Frank leaves the shop, he realises that he didn’t think about the cute guy with the messy hair that Bob ruined his chances with all day. Bob had been talking his ear off about some dude he had met on grindr just last night, and as Frank unlocks his car and turns on the engine, he contemplates downloading a dating app too. 


	5. Friday

Gerard loves his half days, especially when they’re on Friday. Being able to sleep in  _ and  _ get coffee after a hectic week is the best reward. With two deadlines, one on Tuesday and the other on Thursday, Gerard hardly had time to think about anything but cartooning for the past 96 hours. He’s been so wrapped up in his own head that the 10 digits on Monday’s coffee cup hardly even registered. 

When he finally pulls into the parking lot at 11:30, he vaguely recalls that he had something he wanted to do all week, and that he had been putting it off, but for the life of him, he just can’t remember. 

He finally walks into the shop, for once in a great mood. The man at the counter has his back turned to him, but begins to turn when the bell above the door rings. 

_ Oh no. _

Gerard’s face flushes hot as he remembers the discarded coffee cup on his desk at work. Ten digits. A phone number. A **cute guy’s** phone number. _How could I have forgotten?!_ Gerard thinks. _Fuck! He’s looking at me. This is so embarrassing!_

Gerard turns around quickly and rushes out of the shop like a startled cat.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

“Mikes, I can’t just text him **now,** I’ll look like an idiot!” 

Mikey sighs.

“Yeah, it sucks that you forgot to text him, but you’re already embarrassed about it. At least it’ll make him feel better if you text him back. Sure, you may have lost your chance, but at least he won’t be beating himself up for putting himself out there. He probably feels like an idiot too. And if you don’t text him and at least clear this whole thing up, how are you gonna get through the week without your coffee endcaps?”

“I was thinking I would wear a mask.” 

“Ha, very funny. Just text him.” 

“Fine.” Gerard attempts to reply, but the line has already gone dead. 

“Thanks Mikey, love you too!” He says to himself sarcastically. He grabs the several-days-old coffee cup, opens the messaging app, and begins to compose a text. 


	6. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank is the one that doesn't use apostrophes and he also doesn't have auto-capitalization on his phone.

Hey it’s Gerard. I'm sorry for not texting you all week, Work was super busy. 

Delivered: 12:11 am 

no worries, i had a busy week too. 

Delivered: 12:15 am

And sorry about running out on friday, I panicked when I saw you and had remembered that you left your number on my cup. 

Delivered: 12:17 am

lol its ok, i was worried all day about what you running out on me meant.

Delivered: 12:20 am

Just me remembering I’m a dumbass is all.

Delivered: 12:21

does this mean youll come in on monday?

Delivered: 12:26

Yes

Delivered: 12:26

good :) i gotta be up in a few hours to open but ill see you monday 

Delivered: 12:28

Okay goodnight 

Delivered: 12:30

night!

Delivered: 12:31


	7. Monday

When Gerard walks up to the counter on Monday, Frank’s face breaks into a large grin. He tries to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself, but it just doesn’t work. 

Gerard smiles just as wide, at least.

“Hey, large colombian with two espresso?” 

“Always.” Gerard peeks at the display of baked goods to the right of him. 

“Do you really bake everything yourself?” 

“I do! Bob and I spend Saturdays baking everything while the shop is run by my assistant manager.” 

“They all look delicious...what’s your favorite?”

Frank whistles low, and clicks his tongue. 

“My favorite is the chocolate chip muffin, but for out of our seasonal selection, you should definitely try the gingerbread. It took me several years to perfect the recipe.” 

“What makes you think I wanted to try something?” Gerard teases.

“Oh, I was just hoping. How about I give you a gingerbread man--on the house?” 

“You never let **me** have anything for free!” Bob interjects. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to woo **you** ,” Frank retorts, as he pulls out the gingerbread man cookie, frosted with a red sprinkle jacket, a green top, and white pants. 

Gerard takes the wax-paper-enveloped cookie from Frank, and takes a small bite. The flavor is phenomenal, not too spicy, but still with plenty of ginger.

“You’re trying to woo me?” Gerard says after swallowing. “Well consider me very much wooed. This is the best gingerbread cookie I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m very glad. Maybe we can bake some together sometime…” 

“I don’t know, it seems to be very much a you and Bob thing, I don’t think I could infringe on that. I’m a lousy baker anyways.” 

“Guess we’ll have to find something else to do.” Frank winks and hands Gerard his coffee. 

“Yeah, I guess we will,” Gerard blushes. “Thanks for the coffee and the cookie, I’ll text you later?” 

“Okay! Have a good day at work!” 

“You too,” he replies as he walks out the door.

“So he texted you?” Bob asks, in the most smug voice he's ever heard.

“Yeah he did.”

“I’m not gonna say ‘I told you so’ but I **really** want to.” 

Frank flashes his middle finger in the general direction of his favorite manager, and hears a laugh from behind him.


	8. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Meg for the make and model of Frank’s car.

“What would you say if I asked you on a date?”  


Frank peers up at Gerard, putting his puppy-dog eyes to good use.

Gerard pretends to contemplate Frank’s proposal, and replies, “Do I have to pay?’

“What?”

“I said, do I have to pay for my coffee if we went on a date?” 

“I guess it would depend on if you say yes or no…” Frank teases.

“Hmm...well I guess I have to say yes, then,” Gerard smiles. 

“Great! When do you wanna go?” 

“I actually have a half day today. I get out at noon, if you wanted to do something this afternoon?”

Frank beams up at Gerard. 

“That’s perfect! Would a quarter past 1 work? I have a perfect idea.” 

“Yeah, it only takes me 10 minutes to get home. I can be ready by then.” 

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up!” 

“Okay. I’ll text you my address when I get home,” Gerard nods. “Well, I gotta get to work. I’ll see you later. Bye, Frank...Bye, Bob.” 

“Bye!”

“Bye, Gerard.” 

Gerard gets in his car, and when he mounts his phone back up on the dash, he sees a text from Frank that says “wear snow pants!! :)” 

“Oh, God...What did I get myself into?” Gerard chuckles, and texts back “Okay!”

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

  
  


His snow pants may not have seen the light since he was a sophomore in high school, and they’re a little baggy, but they still work. That’s good enough for Gerard. He checks the clock: 1:00 pm. Just enough time to brush his teeth and put on a little more cologne. He’s never been on a getting-to-know-you date before, and hasn’t done an outdoor winter activity in actual years, so he’s equally nervous and excited. 

He’s putting on his winter boots when Frank texts “here!!! :)” and he peers out the window to see a red Toyota Camry and Frank in the front seat, checking his reflection in the mirror. Gerard takes a step outside, and gets in the passenger seat of the car. 

“How was work?” Frank asks, and hands Gerard a tupperware container. 

“Uneventful, what are these?” Gerard opens the container. 

“Broken cookies from last week’s batch. I thought you might like some,” Frank answers, as Gerard takes a bite of a headless gingerbread man. 

“Mmm, yeah. Thank you. How was work for you after I left?” 

“Good, I sold almost all of the cookies today. We only have 4 left for tomorrow. It’s a good thing that we’re baking more. Also some asshole almost hit Pansy today on the way to get you--my car.” Frank answers, when Gerard gives him a confused look. 

“Ugh, I hate Jersey drivers. They can’t drive for shit. And that includes me.” 

“Honestly, same. I shouldn’t have gotten my license,” Frank laughs.

Gerard looks out the window, watching Frank drive further away from the center of town. 

“So, where are we going? What are we doing?” 

“Well, I saw this cursed several feet of white stuff, and I thought that we should take advantage of it and your half day and go sledding.” 

Gerard smiles, and lets out an exclamation of joy. 

“Really!? Oh man, I haven’t been sledding in YEARS. That’s such a good idea!” 

Frank grins back, “I’m so glad you approve. I know it’s kind of childish, but…” 

“Who cares? It’ll be fun. And unlike skiing, it requires no money and zero skill.” 

“Exactly! That’s what I used to tell my ex, but he was lame and would never go with me.” 

“Well I’m not lame. Promise.” 

“Good,” Frank smiles. 

They drive for a few more minutes until they reach the local park, and find a spot to park among the minivans. After Frank turns off the car and retrieves the sled from the back, they follow the trails with snow packed down by so many individuals before them. 

“I only have one sled, I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, that’s fine. The more weight the faster it goes anyways.” 

“You’re right! You’ve gotta pretty big brain.”

“Thanks, I don’t use it too often though, it hurts,” Gerard jokes.

They get to the first hill, and the awkward fumbling to figure out who goes in front and how they’re going to sit reminds Gerard of the horrible water slides at the amusement park, and how much he hated going on them with Mikey as a kid. Being awkward and overweight with a wet t-shirt on as a kid sucked, and he dwells on the feeling of discomfort for a bit until Frank gives Gerard a smile and makes him wrap his arms around his waist, and the discomfort is replaced with butterflies. Being this close to another human being is so nice and welcome, especially in the cold and the loneliness he normally feels during the winter. 

They fly down the hill, climb back up, and do it all over again. When they tire of it, Frank grabs Gerard’s hand in his, and they march to the next hill to see if it’s faster or better. They end up sledding and hiking and giggling breathlessly for a total of three hours, when the park starts to clear up and the sun starts to fall behind the treeline. 

As they walk back to the car, Gerard reaches out for Frank’s hand, and Frank smiles back at him when he does so. 

“So you had a good time?” 

“The best time. It was wonderful. Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome. I had fun, too.”

When they get in the car, Frank puts on the radio station, and they sit in companionable silence, the low music and the drive of the car on the road making Gerard sleepy. Before he knows it, Frank is gently shaking him awake, and he blinks awake to find them outside of his apartment building. 

“I fell asleep?” 

“Yeah, just a little bit. Don’t worry, you didn’t snore or drool or anything.” 

“That’s good,” Gerard yawns. “Okay. I’m gonna head in and make myself some food, unless you wanted to come in? I could order us some pizza.” 

“I would love to, but I’m going over to decorate the Christmas tree at my mom’s.” 

“Oh, that’s fun! I love decorating trees. I hope you have fun...thank you again for today. It was great,” Gerard unclips his seatbelt and steps out of the car. He begins to walk back to the house when Frank rolls down the window and calls out to him. 

“Gerard!”

He turns around, to see the tupperware container in Frank’s hand, pointed towards him out of the window. 

“Oh! Thanks!” He runs back, grabs the cookies, and leans down, planting a kiss on Frank’s cheek. 

“You’re welcome,” Frank blushes, and rolls the window back up. 

Gerard quickly walks back to his front door and enters the apartment, waving goodbye to Frank as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road. 

When he shuts the door, he pulls his phone out and speed-dials Mikey.


	9. Monday

When Gerard doesn’t show up at The Caffeinated Recluse at the regular time, Frank worries a little bit. He tries to hold out hope that Gerard has a late start, and will be in around 11, but ever the pessimist, he doesn’t really believe he will. He keeps himself busy for the next few hours, trying to avoid the clock, but it’s quite noticeable to Bob that Frank can’t help but look up with hope and then disappointment every time the bell above the door sounds. 

“Frank, can I work on register for a bit? We’re slow and I wanna practice,” Bob asks, after the 5th time in a row of seeing Frank’s fake customer-service smile.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll finish that chai latte for you,” Frank says, and grabs the cup from Bob’s hand. 

“How was your date on Friday?” 

“It was great,” The door opens again, and Frank is yet again saddened to see it’s just a customer leaving, no Gerard in sight. “At least for me...we went sledding and I brought him the rest of the throw cookies that I didn’t eat from last week. He told me he had a great time, and he held my hand a lot. He kissed ny cheek, too, when he said goodbye.”

“But?” Bob raises his eyebrows.

“But, he didn’t text me all weekend, and since I had asked him on the date I wanted to wait until he texted me first before I texted him. And he hasn’t come in yet.” 

Frank looks at the clock: 12:04 pm

“He would’ve been here by now if he had a half day.” 

“Maybe something happened. Maybe he had a family emergency, or maybe he tripped and fell down the stairs and landed himself in the hospital.” 

“I swear to God, if I happen to be dating someone just as clumsy as me…” Frank swears, equally exasperated and amused at the suggestion. 

“Oh man, remember that time you tripped and managed to empty the filter basket all over yourself, the floor, and on the cookie tray you had out on the counter?” Bob chuckles.

“God, yeah,” Frank covers his face, laughing. 

“What about that time…”

  
  
  


The rest of Frank’s shift is spent recollecting his numerous moments of clumsiness, and although he is still disappointed at 2 pm when he clocks out that Gerard hasn’t shown up or texted, he feels better than he did a couple hours ago.


	10. Friday

Frank is sitting in “his” lounge chair, his laptop in his lap. He is going over the budget and orders for products while he waits out the last hour before close. When Ash said she was sick and couldn’t come in, Frank volunteered to come in and cover for her. His coffeeshop is really a home away from home, and as much as he prefers opening, closing isn’t too bad, either. He only hopes that Ash’s sickness didn’t somehow make it to him. 

He’s almost done ordering the espresso beans and flavored syrups when the door opens. Frank doesn’t really mind the late customers: he’s so quick and efficient at cleaning up that he always gets out by 9:30 when he closes. He places the laptop gently on the coffee table in front of him, and looks up to see a skinny man with white-framed glasses that are inexplicably placed OVER the locks of hair in front of his ears giving a death glare to the man next to him, who--

“Gerard?” 

Gerard looks like a startled rabbit. 

“Hey, Frank. What’s up?” 

Frank gets up and walks over to Gerard, who gets a nudge and another death glare from the man beside him. 

“Can we talk?” 

Frank’s stomach fills with anxious butterflies and his face flushes hot, but he nods yes, and gestures to the loveseat next to the lounge chair. Gerard’s mystery man heads out the door, and pulls out a cigarette, then grabs his phone and starts texting furiously, the lit cigarette in his mouth and the smoke swirling around those glasses. Frank turns to Gerard.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?” 

“I’m sorry I basically ghosted you.” 

“It’s okay, it happens sometimes. I just assumed you were busy,” Frank lies. 

“I wish I had been bus-y” Gerard’s voice cracks and Frank can see his lip quiver.

“Are you alright?” 

“Sorry,” tears spill from Gerard’s eyes, and he uses his sleeve to wipe them away. “Can I have some water?” 

“Yeah, of course. Let me make you something special, too,” Frank says, and gets behind the counter. 

“You don’t have to.” 

Frank hands Gerard a glass of water, and gets to work brewing a cup of coffee. He pours half into a large mug, and steams some milk with chocolate syrup. He adds the hot chocolate to the coffee, stirs in a shot of peppermint syrup and tops it with whipped cream. Gerard has finished his water, and his tears have stopped when Frank gives him the peppermint mocha, and they make their way back to the loveseat, Gerard slurping up the whipped cream almost immediately. 

“Okay, let’s try again. What’s wrong?”

“I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I just struggle with my mental health. Especially at this time of year. I was stuck in bed every moment that I wasn’t at work.” 

Gerard takes a sip of the mocha.

“Mikey, my brother, found out and he dragged me here when I told him that I hadn’t followed up with you after the date. He was mad...he still kinda is.” 

“I’m gonna admit that I feel relieved,” Frank confesses. “I thought you were going to tell me you didn’t wanna see me anymore or that you were seeing someone else,” he gestures to Mikey, who has entered the shop and is sitting at a table with his phone inches from his face. 

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Gerard chuckles. “I really like you, and I had fun on our date. I would love to do it again sometime.” 

“That’s good, cause we still have 3 months of winter left, and plenty of time for sledding.” 

Gerard finishes the mocha, and when he leaves, he gives Frank a long hug.

“See you on Monday?” Frank asks.

“Yeah, see you then.”


	11. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that Frank is the one who doesn't have capitalization or apostrophes in his texts!

Gerard wakes up 9:07 on Saturday, and shuffles to the kitchen. The first order of business: coffee. He opens the cabinet, pulls out a filter, and adds the three scoops of his beloved Folger’s. While he waits for the coffee to brew, he opens his fridge and looks at the pitiful state of it: 2 slices of bread, half a pint of milk, and a single egg. He grabs a slice of bread and puts it in the toaster, hoping that one slice will be sufficient, because he doesn’t have the energy to go to the grocery store tomorrow when all of the Karens are out. 

The toast pops out and scares the absolute shit out of him, even though he  _ knew  _ it was about to be finished, and he hits his knee against the counter. When he’s finished feeling like he’s gonna black out from the weakness that hitting the nerve there provides him, he straightens his back, butters the toast, and finally pours himself a large mug of coffee. He puts the toast in his mouth and carries his breakfast back to his room, carefully getting back into bed and turning his phone on. He checks facebook and replies to a text from Mikey, and then composes a new message.

My toaster gave me a heart attack this morning even though i was watching it toast my bread.

Delivered: 9:23

lol that happens to me a lot

Delivered: 9:30

Yeah, I even banged my knee from being startled. Hit a nerve and was crouched in pain for a good minute or so.

Delivered: 9:32

aww :( well i have bad news too...i woke up sick and when im sick everything is knocked out of me. i wont be in on monday. 

Delivered: 9:38 

What do you have?

Delivered: 9:40 

i think a stomach bug...i should be fine by friday, my employee had it too and she was better after 3 days.

Delivered: 9:45 

That sucks so bad. Keep me updated on how you’re feeling, okay?

Delivered: 9:47

i will. i was up all night sick i’m gonna try and get some sleep. ill text you later. 

Delivered: 9:49

Alright, sleep well. 

Delivered: 9:50

thank you <3

Delivered: 9:50


	12. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final reminder that Frank is the one who doesn't have capitalization or apostrophes in his texts!

When Gerard is on his lunch break, he texts Frank. 

Feeling better?

Delivered: 11:30

yeah, loads. i think it was that stomach bug my employee had. im so hungry and tired

Delivered: 11:40

Would you like some company tonight? I come in late tomorrow because I have a half day. I can bring snacks and we can watch a movie or something?

Delivered: 11:41

i would love that, yeah

Delivered: 11:45

Cool, do you have any specific snacks in mind?

Delivered: 11:46

ramen noodles and oreos are all i care about

Delivered: 11:49

What flavor? I know you don’t eat meat.

Delivered: 11:50

doesnt matter, i make homemade broth

Delivered: 11:53

Really? Okay, i’ll grab those things and a few other snacks. I get out at 5, I’ll see you around 5:45.

Delivered: 11:55

okay :) 

Delivered: 11:59

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

Gerard curses himself for not grabbing a cart, as he fumbles all of the groceries onto the belt at the register. He told himself he was only going to grab the ramen, popcorn, Oreos, and Mountain Dew. But then he second-guessed the popcorn because he’s pretty sure that Frank is vegan, or at least doesn’t eat dairy in addition to not eating meat...and then he saw botan rice candy and he wanted to get some for Frank to try. Then he saw pretzels, and a vegan “cheese” dip. While walking towards the checkout, he remembered that he was low on bread, milk, and eggs, so he might as well grab some…

“Would you like me to get you a cart, sir?”

“Ah, no, it should be fine in one or two bags. I’ll be able to carry it.” 

“Okay. Total is $32.87” 

Gerard pays, and brings his purchases to his car, separating his groceries from the snacks and placing them on the passenger seat. 

When he gets to Frank’s house, it’s five to six, which he doesn’t consider too bad considering he’s usually fifteen minutes later than he says he’s going to be, not ten. 

“Hey!” Frank says, as he opens the door. 

“Hey, I have the goods,” Gerard says awkwardly, offering the grocery bag. 

“Sweet! Come in, and we’ll throw the noodles in the pot.” 

Gerard follows Frank and the smell of simmering broth through the hallway and they end up in the kitchen. Frank rips open the packages of ramen and places them in the pot, stirring twice. 

“Can you grab me the bowls in the cabinet to your right?” 

Gerard opens the cabinet and pulls out two deep yellow bowls, and places them on the counter next to Frank, who uses a spatula to carefully lift the rectangles of softened noodles into each bowl. Then he uses tongs to add heaps of a mix of corn, bok choy, and tofu on top of the noodles, and he ladles the broth into each bowl. Frank finishes the ramen with chopped scallions and matchstick carrots, turns off the stove, grabs spoons and chopsticks, and gestures at Gerard to follow him further into the house. Gerard is met with a loveseat covered in blankets and a throw pillow with the picture of the coffee shop's logo, and a modestly sized TV in front of a large coffee table. Frank’s living room is small and cozy, and it honestly looks like a mini version of the coffeeshop. 

“My mom had that pillow made custom to celebrate my one-year anniversary of owning the shop.” 

“I like it, it’s cool. Your logo is awesome, to be honest.” 

“Thanks, I had the tattoo artist who did my scorpion draw it up,” Frank shrugs his shoulder to “point” at his neck, and Gerard tries to not stare for too long. 

“Alright, let’s get this movie on...any movie preferences?” 

“I like horror and fantasy.” 

“Ooh, okay. I can find something, for sure.”

Frank carefully places the bowls of ramen on the coffee table, and plops down on the couch. Gerard joins him, and Frank inches close when he leans forward to grab the remote, but doesn’t pull away when he sits back. He turns on the TV, and starts flipping through Netflix, when he lands on House of 1000 Corpses.

“Oh my God...have you seen this movie?”

“No, should I?”

“Definitely. You know Rob Zombie?”

“You mean the dude who sings ‘Dragula’?”

“Yeah, him! He directed it. It’s fucking weird but entertaining as hell. Wanna watch it?”

“Sure,” Gerard says, and takes a sip of the broth from the ramen. “This is incredible, by the way.” 

Frank beams at Gerard.

“Really? I’m so glad you like it. I can’t eat the packet flavors cause I’m vegetarian, and they have too much sodium anyways, so I make my own broth.” 

“Well it’s a million times better than any packet flavor, I can say that honestly.” 

“Thank you so much!” 

\------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, but why would they agree to go on this road trip and then complain the entire time?”

“Exactly!” 

“Don’t bitch about it if YOU chose to travel around with your boyfriend so he could write a book about strange road trip attractions.”

“You’re right! It makes no sense,” Frank places his hand on Gerard’s thigh to emphasize his agreement. 

Gerard flushes red, and he’s very glad that Frank can’t see his face in the dark of the room. 

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

Over the next hour or so, the story gets continually more outrageous, just as Frank claimed. Over the next hour or so, Frank gets continually closer to Gerard, until he finally just puts his arm around him and rests his head on his shoulder. It is so incredible nice to have another human being against him, and Frank smells so nice. When they finish House of 1000 Corpses, they move on to Oculus, and Gerard introduces Frank to the botan rice candy, which he loves. Before Gerard knows it, they’re onto As Above, So Below, and debating what circle of Hell they would each end up in.

“I could see myself in the sixth circle..I don’t believe in God, really.” 

“I would definitely be in the third...I love food too much,” Gerard says, and plucks the oreo from Frank’s fingers. 

“Pretty sure that was circle four behavior right there: greed,” Frank laughs. 

“Hmm...you could be right. But I think we’re forgetting that we’re gonna end up in circle Seven - we  _ are  _ sodomites, after all.” 

“I’ll show you a sodomite,” Frank winks. 

“But seriously, do you spend a little time in each circle if you’ve committed more than one sin, and then get stuck in the lowest circle-slash-the worst sin for the rest of eternity? Or do we get to skip straight to walking under rains of fire?” 

“Good question--let’s go ring up old Dante. You think we could get ahold of him with a ouija board?” 

“Oh fuck no, I am not touching one of those things. Tell me you don’t actually have one!” Gerard worries. 

“No way, my mom would murder me if I so much as looked at one for too long.” 

“Catholics…” They both say in unison, and laugh. 

Gerard looks over at the screen, which is playing the end credits. 

“Oops, we missed the ending.” 

“Guess we’ll have to watch it another time,” Frank says. 

“Guess so,” Gerard yawns. “What time is it?”

Frank grabs his phone from beside him. 

“About midnight.” 

“Wow, well I would say I’ve overstayed my welcome.” 

“Definitely not. I really needed this company. Thank you for coming over.” 

“You’re welcome. You can keep what’s left of the snacks, of course.” 

“Even the rice candy?!”

“Yes, even the rice candy.”

“Aww, you’re the best. Let me walk you to the door.” 

They walk the dozen or so feet to the front door, and Frank opens the door for him. 

“Will I see you Monday?”

“Yep, I have Thursday and Friday off, but I go in on Monday through Wednesday next week.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you then. Get home safe,” Frank says, leans in, and kisses Gerard. 

Frank’s lips are so soft and smooth, which makes no sense, considering the horrible wind and the state of Gerard’s own lips, and when they pull back, Gerard wants to go in for more. So he does. The second kiss isn’t as long as the first, but it’s even better. Frank smiles at Gerard when it’s over, and Gerard fumbles a goodbye, tripping down the steps on the way to the car. He is very glad that Frank already closed the front door when he trips, and very glad that thinking about the kisses distract him enough from his freezing car to not be too bothered when it takes until he’s already on his street for the heat to start working. 


	13. Thursday, Christmas Eve

Gerard enters The Caffeinated Recluse simultaneously filled with confidence and nerves. As he hoped, Bob is manning the register, Frank with his back turned to the service counter, pouring lattes and pulling espresso. 

“Hey, Gerard. What can I get for you?” 

“A large peppermint mocha with espresso, and can you do me a favor?” 

  
  


Frank pulls the shot of espresso and adds it to the peppermint mocha, topping it with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and a sprinkle of crushed candy cane. He clicks the lid in place, turning around and reading the name on the side of the cup.

“Peppermint mocha with espresso for…‘my boyfriend’?” 

He looks up, and is greeted with a view of a blushing Gerard, who is biting his lip. His confusion turns into pure joy, and he uses everything in him to not launch himself over the counter and into Gerard’s arms.


	14. Epilogue: 2 Years // 6 Years

Frank’s hand shakes a little as he writes the last letter on the large colombian roast with two shots of espresso and extra cream. 

“Order for…‘my fiancé’?” he manages to say, relatively steadily. 

Gerard looks up.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------

When Frank comes in the door, struggling with groceries, and almost trips over the dog as he sets them on the kitchen counter. 

“Hey, Toastie, where’s daddy? In the bedroom?” He scratches behind Toast’s golden-yellow ear. 

Frank walks into the bedroom he shares with his husband of several years, and is greeted by the all-too-common sight of him in bed with discarded tissues launched towards the general vicinity of the trashcan and the covers pulled up high over his head. 

“I’m home baby,” Frank walks over to the shuddering duvet-covered mass, and pulls back the covers to find a teary-eyed 29-year-old who is far too cute to be so sad. 

“Come here,” Frank opens his arms and courses his fingers through Gerard’s slightly greasy hair, not saying anything except for the occasional “I love you,” until the crying subsides. 

“I’m tired…” Gerard croaks.

“Alright. How about I bring you some soup and water, and then we can cuddle and fall asleep to the Great British Baking Show? The holiday special just went up.” 

“I’m not hungry.” Gerard starts to argue, but then his growling stomach betrays him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll be right back.” 

“Fine...” Gerard acquiesces, and throws the covers back up over himself. He’s stubborn, but he knows that Frank is only looking out for him.

When Frank comes back into the room with hot soup and a cold glass of water, Gerard is grateful. After the food is eaten and this year’s contestants are halfway through the technical, Gerard drifts asleep grateful. Although these winter weekends still get pretty dark, having the man he can call the love of his life hold him during the worst of it is a yearly Christmas miracle. 


End file.
